


Managing

by murdergatsby



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Branding, Burns, Comfort, Hallucinations, Hannibal is sad, Hannibal wants Will to love him, Hannibal wants Will to take care of him, Healing, M/M, Memory Palace, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Post-Digestivo, Pretty sure I just wrote this to hurt myself, Verger Brand, Verger branding, fluff kinda?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 20:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6209248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdergatsby/pseuds/murdergatsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal wishes Will was around to help him recover.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Managing

**Author's Note:**

> I figured that someone needed to take care of Hannibal’s burn, and I figured that Hannibal would have liked it to have been Will.

“You made it sound…” Will began, tracing the edge of Hannibal’s shoulder blade with his fingers. He followed their lines to his spine, and then down to the outer edge of the image blistered into the back of his ribcage. “Smaller?”

Hannibal turned his head to gaze at Will from the corner of his eye. He was straddling a chair turned backwards, so that his bare back was exposed. Will sat in a chair properly, just behind him. Will’s eyes were fixated on only the burn.

He sounded worried but Hannibal wasn’t worried. He could feel the rough heat where the iron once pressed and the sting of his fresh, healing skin on the outskirts of its shape. He knew he’d be fine and that the image would heal with time and care. Clearly, the sight of it did not make Will feel the same.

“It’s not that big.” Hannibal replied, trying to reassure him.

“It looks _that big_.” Will argued, furrowing his brow and frowning with distaste. With the way Hannibal’s damaged skin rose, it was hard to tell the ornate design that the Verger family called their own, from a set of red and brown squiggles. The clearest aspects of the brand were the rearing boar, encased in a frame of royal implications, and the name 'Verger' itself.

Will clenched his jaw and exhaled through his nose. “I don’t think there will ever be a time that I don’t regret not killing him myself.” He said, before letting his eyes flicker up to Hannibal’s face.

Their eyes caught each other for a moment, before Hannibal turned away from him again. He looked to the other half of the room with the same intensity as he had looked at Will, however the empty wall was far less captivating.

“It was more important to Margot that she killed him.” Hannibal explained.

He had more to say, but Will cut him off with a growl. “I know.” Will quickly looked back down to the wound. He circled the entire shape with his middle and index finger again, pressing against the skin that was unharmed. “Doesn’t stop me from wishing otherwise.”

For a moment, Will lost himself in fantasy. The thoughts of harming the definitely-deceased Mason were vivid, loud, and distracted him just enough to cause his fingers to slide into the still very-much-sensitive skin of Hannibal’s branding.

Hannibal’s back went ridged against the sudden intrusion, as his body pulled away from Will’s hand. His face compressed over the pain, but he didn’t make a sound.  

Will’s eye widened and his hand jumped backwards, reacting just as suddenly as Hannibal’s body had. “Sorry.” He whispered. His opposite hand, the one that hadn’t been on Hannibal’s back, came forward and grabbed Hannibal by the waist. He squeezed him there, and pulled him back into his original, comfortable position.

“I’m sorry.” Will repeated. It felt honest.

Hannibal’s body softened instantly to the reapplication of Will’s touch, nearly sighing against it as he let himself relax.

Will tried to move on from his mistake quickly, releasing Hannibal’s side and redistributing his attention to the table beside them. Hannibal had brought him everything he needed to take care of his back; a cold cloth that had already been compressed, a bottle of colorless ointment, and a clean bandage.

Will grabbed the bottle and squeezed the contents onto his fingers. Very carefully, he brought them back down to Hannibal’s skin. He used the ointment as a barrier between it and the actual pressure of his fingers.

“Is this okay?” Will asked. He leaned in when he spoke.

Hannibal could feel his breath collect on his spine. He shuddered, and nodded. “Yes.” He wanted to say ‘ _thank you’_ but he didn’t.

Will spread the ointment on the burn, evenly. Hannibal winced accordingly as he covered certain areas; some were much more tender than others. Will made sure all the crevices and kinks that the surely-scarring-tissue created were filled. He tried to make the creme lay as smoothly as possible while causing Hannibal the least amount of discomfort.

“And, I just put this on top?” Will asked, after reaching satisfaction with his work. He took the bandage off the table and sized it up against the brand. Hannibal had even gone ahead and applied his own medical tape to the edges of the bandage, so that all Will had to do was press it into place.

Hannibal nodded, but didn’t speak. Will noticed that he was chewing on his bottom lip, jaw tight. The veins in his neck were prominent. This hurt him much more than he was leading on.

Will lined one side of the tape up with the respective side of the wound, smoothly pressing it down into his skin. He moved swiftly and much more deliberately than he had been before, causing Hannibal to anticipate another sudden jab of pain.

“Try to be-” Hannibal cut in. He wanted to remind Will, in case he had forgotten or become lost in whatever thoughts had earlier captured him.

Will interrupted him by pressing his lips between Hannibal’s shoulder blades.

“Softer, right.” Will said, pulling his lips only far enough back to speak clearly. He reapplied them, slightly higher on his back than he had before, as he pressed down the next side, and the next; a kiss for every corner. It was a distraction of the senses- a kind of pain management. This type of thing was something usually done with another pain, to combat the worse pain. This gentle approach was new, and it was nice.

When Will was done, his lips laid just below the nape of Hannibal’s neck. “How’s that?” He asked. His breath rolled up into Hannibal’s hairline. He pressed the palm of his hand down on the bandage, as if to secure it.

Hannibal turned his head very slowly, to look at Will again. Will turned his own head so that his chin rested in the curve of Hannibal’s neck.

“Will.” Hannibal said, practically whispering. The end of his name curled up like a question, but he didn’t have one to ask.

The two of them moved in closer, until their noses touched. Will was smiling with eyes locked on Hannibal’s lips. He parted his own.

They breathed each other in, Hannibal doing so in quivering gasps. He wanted to say his name again, and he wanted to hear Will say his name in the same bent whisper. Hannibal hoped for it, wished for it. He closed his eyes.

\--

“We’re all done here, Dr. Lecter.”

The nurse that spoke did not have a voice of any similarity to Will’s. It wasn’t an unpleasant voice, but it wasn’t what Hannibal wanted to hear. He opened his eyes to see that he was still in his cell. He was still guarded by two armed men. Will was still elsewhere.

“Thank you.” Hannibal said, with a smile.

The nurse smiled back at him, a habit she knew she should consider cutting. It was hard, with Hannibal, to remember who he was and what he was capable of. He was always properly restrained when they met, this being the third time, and she knew that contributed to his relaxed demeanor. She also knew the men with guns helped. Even with that in mind, he had yet to do anything to suggest he wanted to harm her, and he had an awfully contagious smile.

She gathered her limited things and stood, walking herself to the exit. Just before leaving, she looked over her shoulder back at him. “I’ll see you the same time, tomorrow.”

Hannibal held his smile in her direction, with no real reason to do otherwise. It’s not as if he had any say in the next time they’d see each other. 

“See you then.” He said, before letting himself drift back into his fantasy.


End file.
